Too Many Motives
by Argonaut57
Summary: When a drive-by shooting an a hotel leaves three people dead, including a British crime boss, the governor insist that Five-0 have a British liaison. Steve McGarrett thinks he has the ideal person. A veteran British police detective on holiday in Honolulu. Detective Chief Inspector Vera Stanhope thinks this shower need sorting out!
1. Chapter 1

**Too Many Motives**

It was a drive-by, and a messy one at that. Outside a busy hotel in the morning, lots of people checking out and others leaving to go about their business or enjoy their holidays.

Steve McGarrett didn't know this hotel well. It was a mid-price, comfortable place. Tourists and middle-ranking business types mostly, he guessed. Not the kind of place Five-0s' work brought them to often. More usually it was high-end complexes or sleazy downtown rooms-by-the -hour joints.

"What've we got, Duke?" He asked.

Sergeant Lukela looked a little shocked, which said a lot. The veteran HPD cop, who'd worked with Steves' father, had seen just about everything.

"It's a mess, Steve." He said. "Guy just opened up with an SMG all across the forecourt here. We've got three dead and maybe a dozen wounded, from critical to cuts and bruises.

"Also, we've got more witnesses than we can count, but not many of them are making much sense right now. Your best bet is the old English lady sitting on the wall over there. She seems to be holding it together better than most."

"OK." Steve said. "I'm going to need IDs on the victims, not just the dead ones, everyone who caught a bullet. Unless this guy is some kind of terrorist or mass murderer, one of them will be the target."

"Looks like we've got someone who doesn't care about collateral damage." Captain Lou Grover opined. "Gang-bangers or political?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Steve admitted. "Lou, you and Junior get on the rest of the witnesses. Tani, you take the old lady. Be gentle, she'll be in shock.

"Danny, get back to HQ. there's plenty of cameras around here. I want you, Adam and Jerry looking over the footage, see if it that gives us anything to work with.

"I'm gonna go check the register. Maybe a name will jump out at me."

Officer Tani Rey made her way over to the shady spot where the witness sat on a wall. Not a typical tourist by the look of her. Perhaps in her late fifties, wearing a flowered dress that came well below her knees and flat sandals. Toe- and fingernails unpainted, no jewellery and by the look of it, no make-up. She carried a large, battered-looking purse and wore a wide-brimmed straw hat.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Tani began politely. "I'm Officer Tani Rey, with the Five-0 Task Force. I need to ask you some questions, if you feel able to talk to me."

The face that was turned to her was strong, and might once have been attractive, if its owner had ever cared about such things. The eyes were another matter, keen and piercing, they seemed to look right through Tani. The woman put her head on one side, and asked in an accent Tani didn't recognise:

"Does your Mum know you're out, pet?" She took a sip from the cup she was holding and grimaced. "They can't make decent tea for love nor money round 'ere!

"Now look, love, I know you've a job to do, but it's better for you and for me if I talk to your boss. So can you go and fetch 'im or 'er, please? Then put some clothes on, pet, or you'll catch your death!"

Tani had half a mind to answer back, but another glance from those eyes crushed that idea. She went to find Steve.

Steve, despite his annoyance at Tanis' casual dismissal, was determined to be polite. Rachel had told him more than once that elderly British people could be eccentric and demanding under stress.

"Ma'am," he said, "I'm Commander Steve McGarrett, Head of Five-0. You asked to talk to me?"

As the woman looked him up and down, Steve understood what Tani had tried to tell him. He'd seen that look before in the eyes of drill sergeants.

"Doesn't look old enough to shave." The woman muttered to herself, then. "Can I see your identification, pet? Only you're not wearing a suit or a tie or anything."

Steve showed his badge. The woman nodded, handed it back, then began to search in her voluminous purse. "'Ang on a minute. I've got it somewhere…. Ah! Here we are, pet."

She handed him a wallet. This proved to contain a silver badge and a card which informed him that it was the 'warrant and authority' for Detective Chief Inspector Vera Stanhope to perform the duties of a police officer in the Northumberland and City Constabulary.

"They tell me I've to keep it with me at all times." She remarked. "Never thought I'd need it on 'oliday, mind!

"Now I didn't want that little lass of yours to get into trouble if you've some sort of rules about interviewing senior coppers, so I thought I'd best talk to you, Commander.

"You'll be wanting to know about the incident this morning. I'll do a proper statement when you want me to, but I'll just tell you what I saw now.

"I'd just come out and was gettin' used to the sunshine -we don't get much of it at 'ome, I think I need to get some sunglasses -when this car comes roarin' up. There's an IC1 – white, that is - male standin' up out of the sunroof, an' 'e opened fire with an automatic weapon. I was standin' off to the side, so I wasn't in danger, but I huddled down against this wall, just in case.

"'E seemed to be spraying bullets all over the place, and by the look on 'is face, 'e was in a bit of a panic. Then 'e shouts 'I'm out!' and the car takes off again, down that way." She pointed.

"What kind of car?" Steve wanted to know.

"Oh, one o' them big four-by-fours…what d'you lot call 'em? SUVs! Silver, it was. Don't know the make. Not English or Japanese, or I'd've recognised it. I got the registration, just a minute."

She delved into her bag again, coming up with a business card and a ballpoint pen. She scribbled something on the back of the card and handed it to him. "The other side's got me mobile number in case you need to reach me. The car was probably stolen, but you never know, do you? If you want my opinion, the shooter wasn't a professional. 'E was scared and sloppy."

"Thanks, ma'am." Steve said. "If you could stop by Five-0 HQ later and give a written statement, that would be great." He handed her his own card. "The address is on there, and so is my number. If you recall anything else that might help, call me."

Three hours later, Steve came to the conclusion that this was going to be a problem case. The car had been found abandoned a few miles from the scene, no witnesses. Dumped on a suburban residential street just when everyone was at work.

"It was stolen from an office parking lot, about half an hour before the shooting." Junior reported. "Owner didn't know it was missing until we told him. There's trace all over it, fingerprints and everything. We've taken elimination samples from the owner and his family. But so far, none of the foreign prints or DNA has had a hit on the system."

Jerrys' report was even more sobering. "Out of the three dead guys, one was a construction worker on vacation from Chicago with two other guys – the other two are in the hospital, hurt but not critical.

"Another was an accountant from Seattle. His family say he'd come out here for a break after a tough divorce. The corporation he works for is under SEC investigation, but it's a different department and the other people involved are way above his pay-grade.

"The last dead guy was some kind of British gangster, organised crime boss in London. I've contacted Scotland Yard to see if they can tell us anything.

"There are a couple of others, injured but not killed, who popped up. One – she's still in surgery, but they say she'll be OK -is in Witness Protection. Danny took the call from the Marshals, so they must be watching pretty close. She's testifying against a drug ring in Alaska, which is why the Marshals put her here, about as far away as they could get her. Danny has HPD covering her at the hospital.

"The other one is still in Intensive Care, and might not make it, they say. He's a night manager at the hotel, he was just coming off shift. He got flagged up because of a sexual assault charge six months ago. It was dropped due to lack of evidence."

Lou blew out his cheeks. "Seems we got a whole lot of motives, but no suspects!"

"We need to prioritise." Steve decided. "Lou, you stay on the witness. Jerry, do a deep dive on that British gangster. The rest of us can clear up the loose ends."

"I didn't know they had organised crime in England." Tani opined. "At least, not like we have it here!"

"You ever hear of the Kray brothers?" Jerry asked her. "Their gang -they called it 'The Firm' - ruled the East End of London in the 1950s and 60s. They worked with the Mafia, the Yakuza and the Triads and nobody messed with them, not even the IRA!"

"Didn't that British lady say she thought the shooter was an amateur?" Junior asked. "Cause if he was, this might have been personal, not business!"

"That's right, and that's why we're going to look into everyone." Steve said. "But we still have to prioritise the ones with criminal connections."

Steve was busy on some kind of call, so when Vera Stanhope turned up to make her statement, Danny had to deal with it. She had obviously done some shopping, as she now had a pair of sunglasses on some kind of chain around her neck. Dannys' nose told him that she had also applied the sun block with a generous hand.

She gave her statement clearly, professionally, confining herself to the facts of what had happened that morning. But then Danny had to venture out into darker waters.

"Ma'am, I need to ask why you came to Hawaii for your vacation? Most Brits coming to the states go to Florida, to Disneyland or Miami, or to Las Vegas or New York."

Vera shrugged. "Well, I don't see as how it's any of your business, pet, but I've asked enough seemingly daft questions in my time, and always 'ad a reason for it.

"I've 'ad a few difficult cases, lately, and one of my team got killed in the line of duty a while back. Nothing I'd worry about, but they've got this big mental 'ealth thing goin' on at work, and somebody noticed I'd not taken any leave for a good while. So my boss calls me in and 'e says "Vera, if you don't take at least four weeks off in the next month, I'll 'ave to retire you." Bit of a bugger, but I took the leave. Thought I'd go to the seaside, Blackpool or Scarborough or somewhere.

"But when I came to look at me bank account, I 'ad a right shock! What with livin' in me Dads' old 'ouse, and not buyin' a lot except food, I 'ad thousands in there! So I decided to treat meself. I'm a bit old for Disney and nightclubbin', and I don't 'ave a lot of time for one-armed bandits and stuff, so I decided to go to the seaside, anyway. Just a bit further away than Blackpool.

"Now why did you need to know, pet?"

Danny responded with another question. "Do you know a guy called..," he squinted at the tablet in front of him, "Michael Ferris? He was staying at your hotel, he was one of the people who was killed this morning, and he was British, like you."

Vera blinked at him. "That name does ring a bell, pet." She allowed. "Just a minute….Mike Ferris? Now if it's the same one, yes I 'ave 'eard of 'im. East End gangster. They used to call 'im 'Meathook Mike' when 'e was young, now they call 'im Mister Ferris, if they know what's good for 'em!

"Now if it is 'im, I didn't know about it, or I'd 'ave moved hotels. I'm fussy about the company I keep."

"So you only knew him by reputation?" Danny said. "You never had any dealings with him?"

"Do you mean 'was I investigatin' 'im' or 'was 'e paying' me off'?." Vera asked. "The answer to both is no, you cheeky little bugger!"

"Lady," Danny snapped, "I gotta ask these questions! You know that, I know that. So don't bother getting ticked off at me!"

"Oh, if I were mad at you, you'd know, pet!" Vera told him. "If you want to know about Ferris, ask the Met. Not that they'll tell you much, they're a funny lot down in London. But my manor's Northumberland, and 'e doesn't do business up there, or I'd 'ave 'ad 'im already!

"Now, if you're done askin' me daft questions, I'd like to get on with me 'oliday."

"I'm afraid that's not gonna happen for a while, DCI Stanhope." This was Steve, who had appeared at the door. "I've just been talking to the British Consulate. It seems Ferris was here on some kind of business, and his people back home aren't too happy about him getting killed. Scotland Yard wants it wrapped up quick, and so does the Governor. They want to assign one of their Special Branch officers to us."

"Well God 'elp you with that!" Vera said. "Them Special Branch types aren't proper coppers at all, but they don't 'alf 'ave a bob on themselves!"

"That's what I figured." Steve told her. "So I said you were already involved in the case, and I'd prefer it if you were assigned. Scotland Yard talked to your boss, and he said he was OK with it. He did say we might not be, but I'll take a chance.

"Welcome to the Five-O Task Force, Detective Chief Inspector!"

Vera sighed. "Looks like I've got a job on me 'ands." She remarked. "Especially if you're all like that scruffy Herbert who showed me up here! What was 'is name? Jerry?"

"Jerry's our IT guy." Danny said.

"No excuse to go around lookin' like 'e's been dragged through a hedge backwards!" Vera sniffed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Too Many Motives**

It was tempting to think of Vera Stanhope as old, Danny realised, but she wasn't that old, not really. Close to retirement, for a cop, but police retirement age was earlier than most. It was simply that, as Tani had put it, she didn't make any effort. She was well-scrubbed, and her clothes were clean, but apart from a little lipstick, she wore no make-up. Most of the women her age Danny knew followed strict regimes of exercise, diet and a variety of creams and potions designed to do away with facial lines and so forth. Vera Stanhope clearly had no time for that kind of thing!

Steve had ordered him to give her an orientation talk, and it was lunchtime, so Danny had taken her to Kamekonas', where she tucked into the food with gusto as he talked.

"Five-0 is a Task Force." He explained. "We get called in If something looks like organised crime or terrorism, or if it needs to be wrapped up quick, or if it's just plain weird. We got full means and immunity, which means we don't have to worry about red tape and going through channels."

"You don't seem any too chuffed about that, pet." Vera remarked shrewdly.

Danny shrugged. "Back in New Jersey, I was a detective, there were rules, a way you did things. You talked to witnesses, you got probable cause, you got a search warrant, got evidence, you built a case, made an arrest, all that. Not easy, you know that, but everything got done right. Here, we chase cars, kick doors down, haul people in without much evidence, shoot anything that looks at us wrong. Me, I don't like working without rules."

"Then why stay?" She asked. "If you don't like it?"

"Because the team needs one real cop!" Danny told her. "Somebody who will do the footwork you need to make a case, sometimes.

"Look, Steve's a Navy SEAL, so's Junior. Tani got kicked out of the Academy, so she knows street cop work, but she never made detective, right? Adam's tough and he's street-smart and he knows organised crime, but he was a CI before, not a cop. Jerry – he's real smart and he's gutsy, but he's a nerd and he's got no training -we have to keep out of the field. Lou's a cop, but he was SWAT before. You know what SWAT is?"

"Special Weapons and Tactics." She told him. "Like our Armed Response Units."

"Right, so you know he'd rather kick doors down and go in shooting." Danny said. "So you got more out of me than I meant to tell you, but you know what you're dealing with, right?

"I can see why Scotland Yard recommended you."

"Scotland Yard?" Vera said. "This isn't a Sherlock Holmes story, pet! New Scotland Yard is the place where the offices are. They're called the Metropolitan Police, or the Met. They wouldn't recommend me, they don't give a damn about anythin' that 'appens north of Watford. They're like you Yanks, think London's the 'ole country!"

Danny held his hands up. "Hey, my ex-wife is British! I know a bit more than that!

"You're from the north, right? What's it like there?"

Vera shrugged. "Countryside is nice, when you get a minute to look at it. More rugged than pretty, like, and a lot of it still wild. But we don't get the good weather that often, and it gets grey and cold even in the summer. In winter it can be bloody murder!

"As for the City. Well, the minin' and shipbuildin' are all long gone. They're tryin' to reinvent the place, but a lot of folk are still just scrapin' by. Makes for a lot of trouble when folk get desperate, you know."

Kamekona came over at that point. "How was the food?" He asked Vera. "We don't get a lot of English people here."

"Proper tasty!" Vera told him. "Don't get prawns like that back 'ome!"

"Wasn't too spicy, then?" Kamekona enquired. "Only I hear English folk don't like spicy food much?"

"Where'd you get that from?" Vera wanted to know. "You should see 'em scoffin' the Vindaloo on a Saturday night!"

"Vindaloo?" Danny asked.

"Real hot curry." Kamekona told him. "Ma'am, can you tell me how to cook fish and chips? I heard a lot about it, and how the English like it, but I never heard how you make it."

"Well, I'm not much of a cook." Vera said. "But I'll tell you what I can, when I've time. But I think we need to be gettin' back now."

"Yeah." Danny said. "Thanks for the food, Kamekona."

"That's OK." Was the reply. "You get your usual discount, bra, and the lady eats on the house. One-time offer!"

Steve had called a case conference.

"OK." He said. "What do we have?"

"Michael Ferris." Adam said. "Well-known and highly-respected in the world of organised crime. He was here in Honolulu to meet with the heads of the Yakuza and the cartels. Ferris and his 'firm' control most of the narcotics trade in London and quite a bit of it in other cities."

"'E does wholesale." Vera confirmed. "Imports the product, cuts it, then sells it on to local dealers. They know better than to shop around for cheaper if they want to stay 'ealthy!"

"That's what I hear." Adam said. "But it seems that most of the imports come through Europe. Now that the UK looks set to leave the European Union, the gangs are worried that tighter border controls will make things harder for them. Wholesale prices go up, price on the street goes up, people can't afford it, profits go down."

"The street dealers go for something cheaper like synthetics, or look for another wholesaler." Danny said. "Some people die from taking bad batches or untested synthetics. Also you start to get turf wars and attempted take-overs. Cops get involved, everything gets messy."

"That's about it." Adam agreed. "Seems that both the US and UK governments are talking about a post-Brexit trade deal. If controls are relaxed on US imports into England, it would make more sense to import the product direct from here.

"Ferris and the others were meeting here to thrash out a deal and see what kind of political pressure could be used to get the trade deal through."

"But if what you say is true," Steve noted, "it makes no sense to hit Ferris. Unless the cartels or Yakuza already have a deal with his successor. But Scot…the Metropolitan Police, say that Ferris hasn't got a clear successor. Two sons, from different marriages, who hate each other and who both have supporters in the organisation. The Brits are expecting a war to break out."

"Could one of the sons have arranged the hit?" Tani asked.

"Not unless they did it by carrier pigeon." Jerry told them. "The Met are all over their communications. Ferris arranged this all by himself, nobody in his organisation even knew he was coming here until he boarded the plane at Heathrow. They shared the data with me and I've passed it on to the FBI. Every little helps, they said."

"OK, so what about the protected witness?" Steve wanted to know.

"We got a whole heap of nothin'!" Lou said. "Word from the Marshals and the Bureau is that the gang in Alaska are still runnin' around tryin' to find her. Nothing shows up that tells me they've hired local muscle to do the job."

"I keep tellin' you, they weren't professionals!" Vera snapped. "The lad doin' the shootin' barely knew one end of a gun from the other! 'E could 'ardly control it!

"An' we all know a professional doesn't fire full automatic, not even over 'ere. Spoils your aim."

"You know, Ms Stanhope might be right." Junior ventured. "None of the prints or DNA trace we found in the vehicle was from anyone in the system. Not criminal, police, military or even government employees!"

Vera fixed the young man with a steely gaze. "Didn't anybody ever teach you to speak when you're spoken to, sonny?" She asked. "And it's 'DCI Stanhope' to you!"

Junior swallowed hard. "Yes ma'am." He muttered.

"Junior's right, Vera." Steve pointed out.

"That's as may be," Vera replied. "but 'e didn't tell us anything we didn't already know. When I were that age, I kept me ears open and me mouth shut: that's 'ow I learned. The same goes for you, miss!" This to Tani, whose mouth closed with a snap before anything came out. "Walkin' around 'alf-naked doesn't get you around me like it does these fellers!" She turned to Steve with some asperity. "You should set a better example to this shower! We're supposed to be professionals!

"Now, who might 'ave a personal reason for somebody to shoot at 'em?"

Steve, who once again felt like a new recruit under the verbal lash of a drill sergeant, took a moment to get his mind back on track.

"The night manager." He said. "There was a sexual assault charge that was dropped. But he won't be telling us anything. He died a couple hours ago."

"Well, there we go, then!" Vera said. She turned to Jerry. "Tell me you looked into that!" She said. "You obviously 'aven't spent all this time gettin' a haircut!"

Jerry, who was clearly less phased by Vera than the others, responded promptly. "There's not a heck of a lot, because charges were never actually pressed. Susanna Kowalski was a high-school student who worked weekends at the hotel, mostly changing beds and cleaning rooms.

"The report was that she came home one Saturday morning -she worked Friday and Saturday nights – and locked herself in her room. Both her parents work Saturdays, and her brother had already moved out – he's older. By the time her folks got back, she'd called in sick to work and said she just wanted to sleep. Wasn't until she didn't come down for breakfast Sunday that they got really worried.

"Her Mom spoke to her and got it out of her. Susanna said the night manager had tried to assault her. They reported it straight away, of course, but it was too late. Susanna had already taken a shower and her mother had put her clothes in the laundry Saturday night. No DNA or trace.

"Paul Tennant, the night manager, denied everything, said he'd been supervising a new staff member, an Anja Palikova, all evening. She confirmed it, so it came to nothing."

"Anything since?" Danny asked.

Jerry nodded. "I poked around a little. Susanna seemed to be OK for a while. Went off to college, like she planned. But then she dropped out during the first semester and came home. She's deleted all her social media -doesn't even have a phone. Delayed reaction, maybe?"

"Girl that age without a phone?" Vera said. "That's more than a reaction, pet!

"You said she 'ad a brother?"

"Yeah, Stephen. They also got two cousins, Michael and Peter, about the same age as him, and they work together in a car repair shop they own. Good kids, hard workers, good online reviews for their work. Not even a parking ticket between them."

"So not on the system!" Danny noted.

"What about the alibi witness?" Vera wanted to know.

"Kinda weird." Jerry said. "Polish national here on a working visa. Looks legit at first glance, but there's something hinky about it. I contacted the Polish Embassy in Washington -they don't have a Consulate here -but it'll take time for them to get back to me."

"Then that's where we start!" Vera decided. "'Ave you got 'er address? Good. I can't be doing with all this driving on the wrong side of the road, Tani, you're with me!"

"Anything you want us to do?" Lou said with heavy sarcasm.

"Yes." Vera retorted. "Take a good 'ard look at the brother and cousins. And try dressin' as if you're at work, not on a day trip to Scarborough!"

"So why me?" Tani asked as she drove. "Why did you ask me to come with you. You obviously don't like me?"

"What makes you think I don't like you, pet?" Vera asked.

"Only everything you've ever said to me." Tani responded.

Vera sighed. "I'm not picking on you for no reason, pet!" She explained. "Nor young Junior, neither.

"Look, you got the makings of a good copper, I can see that. But you're only a babby yet, and still full of yerself. If you can't get that out of yer system, somebody 'as to knock it out, or you'll never be as good as you could be! You're working with a team who know every trick in the book. Steve's a veteran, 'e'll 'ave seen things you can't even imagine. Danny and Lou were both coppers when you were in nappies, that Adam might 'ave a dodgy background, but 'e knows 'is stuff and young Jerry's a scruffy so-and-so but 'e's brilliant.

"You need to 'ave your eyes and ears wide open and your mouth tight shut, my girl! Like I said before, that's 'ow you learn. You go jumpin' in with 'alf-baked ideas an' you'll just make 'em think you're as daft as you look! If you've got owt to say, wait until you're asked or ask for permission, an' don't act as if you know everythin'."

"That's the way you act!" Tani retorted. "And what's wrong with the way I look!"

"I act that way because that's the only way to make 'em listen -an' I _do_ know everythin' -or all of it that matters to do me job!" Vera replied.

"As for the way you look, there's nowt _wrong _with it. You're a pretty lass, pet, but that's 'alf the problem. If you were like me -face like the back of a bus - everybody'd know you 'ad summat between yer ears. But a pretty thing like you, showin' off that much skin, and blokes only think of one thing! They can't 'elp it, it's 'ow they're made and what they're for, and try as they might -an' a lot of 'em _do_ try – they can't change it.

"Now if you're undercover, an' tryin' to put one over on somebody, that look'll work. But if you're just doin' ordinary police work, well, proper jeans an' an ordinary t-shirt would do better. Then you'd be sure fellers were listenin' to what you were sayin', rather than starin' at them legs an' that cleavage!"

"Everybody dresses like this around here!" Tani protested.

"I've noticed." Vera said sourly. "But you're a copper, pet. You need to be taken seriously, an' that means bein' a bit more discreet with your assets!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Too Many Motives**

The house was not what Tani expected. Not a big mansion, but not a walk-up rental either. A pleasant, middle-class tract house in a good area.

"She couldn't afford this as a chamber-maid." Tani noted. "The file says she changed jobs a while back, and she's an administrator at a logistics centre now, but even so…"

"I know." Vera nodded. "Clerk at a delivery depot doesn't earn that much. Let's go and see, pet."

The woman who opened the door was dark, slim and pretty. "Yes?" She asked.

Tani flashed the tin. "Hi. I'm Officer Tani Rey, and this is DCI Stanhope, we're from the Five-0 Task Force. Does Anja Palikova live here?"

"Yes, but I'm Anja Rayner now." The woman replied. "How can I help you?"

"Who is it, hon?" A male voice, the owner of which appeared at once. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of brown hair, open, handsome features and kind eyes. He came up close behind Anja, and she leaned into him comfortably.

"It's the police, David. The Five -0 Task Force, like on the news."

"Oh." He said. "I'm David Rayner, Anjas' husband – though we've only been married a couple weeks. Are you here about Paul Tennant? The blackmail investigation?"

It was on the tip of Tanis' tongue to ask what investigation when Vera stepped in.

"It's about something that might be connected to it, pet." She said. "Can we come in?"

They were shown through into a bright, airy living room and offered coffee, which they declined. Anja and David sat close together on the couch, holding hands. Vera took a nearby armchair – at an angle to them, Tani noted, rather than directly opposite. _She doesn't want to look as though she's interrogating them,_ Tani realised. Tani herself took up a position near the patio doors, determined to keep her eyes and ears open, and her mouth shut. She wanted to see how Vera was going to work this.

"Right!" Vera said. "I'm goin' to be honest with you. I don't know anythin' about this blackmail case, but this may be connected. The reason we're 'ere is that Mr Tennant was one of the victims in a drive-by shootin' at the hotel this mornin'. I'm sorry to 'ave to tell you 'e died from 'is injuries a few hours ago."

She paused to let that sink in. David was looking at Anja anxiously. _It's very real between those two_, Tani noted. Anja herself blinked, then, with a wry twist to her mouth, she said. "I should be upset for his family, I suppose, but I can't bring myself to be sorry Paul died. He was…not a nice man!"

"He was a scumbag, and he should've been behind bars!" David averred. "But I'm not sure he deserved to be shot."

"I see." Vera said. "Anja, pet, you gave Mr Tennant an alibi in a sexual assault case a while back. What can you tell me about that?"

"That was Suzi, wasn't it?" Anja said. "It is connected, in a way. Look, I was born in Poland, but my father was Russian. It made it hard. People still remember the old days, and the way the USSR treated us. Times were hard to begin with, and having a Russian name made it worse.

"A lot of people were leaving, looking for a better life, so I decided to try to come here. I went to the Consulate, filled out all the papers and so on, then went home and waited. A few days later, I was contacted by an official at the Foreign Office. He told me that the Americans were going to refuse my visa because of my Russian connections, but that for a little money, he could make it right."

"But it wasn't just a little money, was it?" Vera asked.

"It wasn't." Anja allowed. "But it wasn't more than I could afford -he was very crafty that way. I paid him the money, and my visa and everything arrived. But then he contacted me again and told me that my papers might not stand up to a full inspection. He gave me Pauls' name and said that if I went to him, I could get a job and get started safely.

"So that's what I did. Paul hired me, on condition that I gave him a little of my pay each month. Not enough to make it hard to pay rent or buy food, but enough so that I had nothing spare to go out, or buy nice clothes or a car. He was doing that to many of the staff at the hotel -telling them there was something wrong with their papers, but that he'd ignore it if they paid him. He never took very much from anyone, but small amounts from enough people make large amounts over time, don't they?

"But I'd only been there three months, when he came to me and told me Suzi was accusing him of something he hadn't done. He told me that if I told the police that he'd been with me the whole evening, he could get my papers fixed so I could leave and get another job, and he'd never ask me for any more money. But he also said that if I didn't help him, he'd stop protecting me and I would be deported."

"So he 'ad you in a bit of a fix, then?" Vera said. "You pretty much 'ad to take the offer, didn't you, pet?"

Anja nodded. "I felt bad about it, but he told me Suzi was lying. I didn't know her very well, so for all I knew she might have been. I alibied Paul to the police and he was as good as his word. I got another job, and that's where I met David -he was my manager."

"It was love at first sight!" David declared. "But when I asked Anja to marry me, she told me everything. So we went to the INS, and they told us that there was nothing wrong with Anjas' visa, there never had been! So then the Polish Embassy contacted us. It seems this government official was only an administrator. He saw the applications as part of the process, and he'd pulled the same con with lots of people. He also had a network of employers abroad who'd take his 'special' people and keep milking them. Nobody was making a fortune, but everyone was getting something, except the poor immigrants!"

"So what you're tellin' me," Vera said. "is that you gave a false alibi, under duress?"

Anja nodded. "Will I get into trouble for it?" She asked.

"Not if I 'ave anythin' to say about it!" Vera promised. "It's all long ago and far away, and the bleeders' dead now, so there's no reason to be diggin' it all up!

"Well, thanks for your time and your 'elp. If we need a formal statement, we'll be in touch, but I reckon I can keep you out of it."

The couple were profuse in their thanks. As she drove away, Tani remarked.: "I'm impressed!"

"So you bloody should be!" Vera told her. "Mind, if it 'adn't been for that 'usband of 'ers, we'd 'ave got nowt from 'er! Are we 'eadin' back to the station?"

"Yeah." Tani said. "I'll drop you, then go back home. I need to change my clothes."

She'd been watching. She'd seen the glance of guilty appreciation David had cast her. But she had also seen the way the couple had ignored her, concentrating solely on the frumpy Englishwoman in the flowered frock. Vera had natural authority, yes. But the way she looked was what got peoples' attention in the first place. The right kind of attention. Steve, Lou and Adam were all physically imposing, Dannys' waspish tongue and feisty manner discouraged any disrespect, but she – and Junior as well – needed to look the part more!

She'd been expecting some kind of sarcastic response, but none came. She glanced at her passenger. Vera seemed to be watching the road ahead, but there was a quiet smile on her face.

Adam was getting used to these conversations, but he wasn't sure the people he talked to were. Michael Ishimato was one of the big players in the local Yakuza, but both men knew he owed his position in large part to Adams' refusal to follow his father. Michaels' contempt for Adams defection was tempered by pragmatism – he was where he was because of it – and the fact that, as a member of the Five-0 Task Force with an intimate knowledge of Yakuza operations and methods, Adam was potentially as large a threat as any rival gang.

"Mr Ferris was here to do business." Michael stated. "It would not be in either of our interests to discuss the details of that business, but his unfortunate demise has left us in an awkward situation. None of us had any reason to kill him.

"You must also understand that we would have known had any or our competitors chosen to eliminate him, and steps would have been taken."

"So you're saying the cartels aren't involved?" Adam asked.

Michael shrugged. "The cartels are locked into a deal with the Irish. To our thinking, this will not end well – there are too many similarities of temperament and any disagreements will become bloody very fast. That is why we prefer to deal with the English.

"The young men who killed Mr Ferris were not targeting him, but the man who dishonoured their sister. That they were stupid and inefficient in their methods does not give us sufficient reason to pursue them, only to regret that they did not go to someone who could have settled the matter more discreetly for a reasonable fee.

"However, I should warn you that Mr Ferris' younger son is taking the matter far more to heart. You might want to tell Commander McGarrett to move quickly."

Steve had listened to Veras' report.

"Well, that explains why Jerry though there was something about her papers." He noted. "If the Polish authorities are investigating this scam, they'll have wanted to look at them.

"So she alibied Tennant under duress? Well, that changes the case against him, but it doesn't give us anything about Susannas' brothers. Still, we should go talk to them, you wanna come along?"

Steve drove well, but fast and aggressively. Then again, his sleek and powerful car was a world away from Veras' battered old Land-Rover. She supposed that if she had a car like this, she'd drive it the same way. But this car would never cope with the country roads of Northumberland, either.

"So." He asked. "What do you think of our Five-0 force?"

"Oh, they're a proper shower, aren't they?" Vera chuckled. "Past me 'ow you keep 'em in order!

"You remind me of _The Untouchables_ on telly when I were a little girl!"

"I guess that's a compliment." Steve laughed. "The real Untouchables did good work bringing Capone down!"

"I'm sure they did." Vera allowed. "But that sort of thing only works when you've got the right people doin' it. Otherwise, it all goes adrift."

"I trust my team." Steve told her.

"I dare say you do, pet." Vera replied. "But it's not all about trust. That Adam, 'e might be on the straight and narrow now, but 'is past could catch up with 'im right when neither of you need it to!

"Mind you, we couldn't get away with 'avin' a team like yours at 'ome. The Civil Liberties lot would be all over it like a rash! We'd be up to our eyeballs in lawyers, questions in Parliament and public enquiries before you could say 'knife'! It'd be all 'accountability' and 'oversight' and God knows what! We 'ave enough trouble when one of our lot uses a Taser or a pepper spray on a fightin' mad drunk!"

"Yeah, I hear you guys don't use guns much." Steve noted.

"We don't 'ave a lot of reason to." Vera pointed out. "British gun laws are stricter than most – handguns aren't even allowed for target shooting, the teams have to train abroad – but EU laws are strict as well. So it's not easy even for the villains to come by 'em.

"Where I work, a lot of it is in the country. Most farmers tend to 'ave a legal shotgun. There's the ones who come to shoot birds, grouse and what-'ave-you, so the places they go to 'ave shotguns as well. They do deer-stalking, too, so there's rifles for that.

"But in the towns, it's more about knives, these days. We've got our Armed Response Units, but they don't get called in that often, an' when they do it usually turns out to be a replica or an airgun. Either that, or somethin' left over from the War -a German or Japanese or Italian sidearm that Grandad or great-Grandad brought back with 'im an' never 'anded in."

"We get that sometimes." Steve allowed. "I read somewhere that you still find World War Two bombs that never detonated?"

"Aye, we do." Vera told him. "Usually in the big cities or ports -the places that got 'it 'ard in the Blitz. Every time they knock a building down and dig out foundations for a new one, they 'ave to look out for old bombs as well as archaeological stuff. People aren't 'appy if the newest restaurant in town is built on top of a plague pit!"

"I'll bet!" Steve said with a grin. "I don't think we appreciate over here just how old your cities are, all built on top of older versions. London version five, right?"

"More like an 'undred an' five!" Vera replied, then. "What the bloody 'ell?"

They had come within sight of the shop where Stephen Kowalski and his cousins worked. At the same time, a battered-looking sedan which had been a little way ahead of them, had drawn up directly opposite the shop. Three young men in gang colours jumped out of the car and made for the shop -all carrying automatic weapons.

Steve slewed the car across the street -which was a cul-de-sac – and tossed Vera his mobile phone.

"Hit speed dial one and call for back-up!" He barked. Then he was out of the car and yelling: "Five-0! Drop your weapons!"

The young men did nothing of the kind, of course, diving for cover instead, and in a few seconds the quiet street had become a reasonable imitation of the main street of Dodge City the day the Earps came to town.

It seemed that Danny had been about to call Steve and that back-up was already on the way. Danny admonished Vera to 'sit tight'. As if that was going to happen! Three yobs with automatic weapons against one man with a handgun? Fair enough, he was a Navy SEAL, but that wasn't the SAS, so he'd need help.

Vera opened the glove-box and found what she'd guessed would be there. A 9mm Glock. A quick check showed her it had a full magazine and one up the spout. There was a spare clip that she tucked under her bra strap -uncomfortable but secure and accessible. Then, with a slight groan -she was getting old for this – she slipped out of the car on the opposite side from the gunfight, keeping low. She began to work her way along the car, looking for a vantage point.

Vera Stanhope was about to do something she had no liking for, but somebody had to look after Steve!


	4. Chapter 4

**Too Many Motives**

As Vera edged along the car, she noted that this was some kind of industrial mini-estate. There were lots of low walls marking loading bays and various bits of equipment scattered around. She peeked around the rear of the vehicle.

Two of the young lads had taken up station behind some packing crates. The holes in them indicated that whatever was inside them was bullet-proof. The other was crouching by some fuel drums and clearly less than happy about it. They all started firing at once, spraying lead around like air-freshener, but the commotion gave Vera a chance to scuttle away from the car and into the shelter of a large, sturdy but evil-smelling rubbish skip.

_What a way to spend a bloody 'oliday!_ She mused. _This frock's done for! 'Ope they've got a Marks and Spencers in town!_

But now she could see what was going on better, and they still hadn't seen her.

Steve was behind one of the low walls, popping up occasionally and firing, though as he usually didn't have a target, Vera hadn't a clue why. Nearby, she could now see a parked forklift. It would give anyone behind it a better angle on Steve, she realised. Then she saw the lad behind the fuel drums looking at it, and knew what was going to happen.

Sure enough, while his mates were firing he made a dash for it. He took aim at Steve, just as Vera squeezed off a shot. The recoil wasn't as bad as she recalled, but the noise, without ear-protectors, was worse, even in the open air. In any event, the lad went down with a yell, clutching his leg.

One of his mates promptly started looking around for who had shot him, and poked enough of himself out of cover for Steve to put a couple of rounds into him. The third hesitated a moment, then put his gun down and pushed it clattering over toward Steve before standing up with his hands above his head.

Vera hurried over to the man she had shot as, right on cue, HPD and the rest of Five-0 arrived. He was lying on the ground, cursing and clutching his thigh, which fortunately wasn't bleeding too much -she'd missed the big vein.

"Don't move, pet!" She warned him.

"Lady, I ain't goin' nowhere!" He replied. "I think you broke my freakin' leg!"

"Serves you right!" Vera pointed out. "Go around shootin' at people long enough an' somebodys' goin' to shoot back!"

"You think I don't know that?" The lad asked. "Goes with the territory. But you just shot my cool out from under me along with my leg! Shot by an old lady! An old _English_ lady. I'm never gonna live that down!

"Think I'll join the Sewing Circle now!"

Then the paramedics arrived, along with Steve.

"You OK?" He asked Vera. "I figured you wouldn't stay put, but I couldn't see what you were doing. That was a Hell of a shot! If it was his leg you were aiming at!"

"'Course it bloody was!" Vera growled. "Bad enough 'avin' to shoot someone without killin' 'em as well!

"You could do with some trainin', though! Bullets don't grow on trees, yer know. Our firearms instructor always says if you can't do it with one shot, don't bloody do it!"

Steve grinned at that, which brought him up in her estimation. She'd thought he might get defensive.

"That was what we call suppressing fire." He told her. "I was trying to keep them in place with their heads down till backup arrived! Never figured one of them would try to flank me! It was a good thing you were there, Vera!"

"Tell that to my knees!" She grumbled. "I'm getting' too old fer this!"

Just then, Tani came up. She had ditched her micro-shorts and halter top for a short-sleeved shirt and skinny jeans, Vera noted.

"Steve, DCI Stanhope." She said. "We found Stephen Kowalski. He was with his cousins, hiding in a store-room at the back of the shop. He wants to talk to us about Tennant."

"Reckon these lads give 'im a scare!" Vera noted.

"Guess so." Steve said. "We'll get them all back to HQ and see what we got!"

The gang-banger was singing like a canary. Cuffed to the only chair in the dismal concrete interrogation room, he was giving Lou and Danny chapter and verse, with footnotes.

"Ain't like we're one of the big gangs." He was saying. "We got like a block and a half of territory that nobody else wants and most of us are family. But my cousin Ricky – he's the boss – has these big ideas. He starts advertising on the dark web, tryin' to build a reputation. Says that technology is the key, shit like that.

"So then this guy from England gets in touch, wants the Kowalskis' dead 'cause they killed his pop. Ricky figures it's easy money and none of the real pros are interested. Plus it get us a customer and if we do it right, he might have more work for us.

"So we tell him killin' people that ain't connected is bad for business, and he says we're wrong 'cause nobody's gonna think it's a hit, especially if we toss the place and steal some tools and stuff.

"So me and my brothers go over there, and it looks pretty sweet until your guy and the dragon lady turn up! How are my brothers?"

"The one with the broken leg will be out of hospital in a couple days." Lou told him. "The other's still in surgery but the docs say he'll be fine. You'll all live to go to jail."

"Ah, shit." The lad peered up at them. "We ain't one of the big gangs, like I said, but we hear and see things. My brothers and I, we got names, dates, addresses. Info your guys could use. Think we can cut a deal?"

"Well, you didn't actually kill anyone, so the most we can get you on is conspiracy." Danny pointed out. "If what you've got is worth our while, I can put a word in with the DA. No promises, though!"

Stephen Kowalski was a very ordinary-looking man. About medium height, blond, slim with a round face that was meant by nature to be cheerful. But it wasn't. It was marked by deep lines of worry and bitterness, and the eyes were haunted. His long, capable hands were clasped in his lap and he stared fixedly at them while he talked.

"I'm glad he's dead." He said softly. "Suzi doesn't have to be scared anymore. No more emails, no more pictures, no more nightmares, I hope!"

"You'd best tell us the lot, pet." Vera said.

"It's the only way you're gonna help yourself now." Steve added.

Kowalski sighed. "Tennant ruled that shift, like some dictator or Mafia boss. He had something on everybody to keep them in line. A lot of the immigrants were convinced he'd get them deported if they didn't pay him off. Another guy was gay and didn't want his family knowing. One of the women was cheating on her husband. That kind of thing.

"But he'd got nothing on Suzie, not a damn thing. But she knew what he was doing, so he got scared. Suzie always wore a crucifix -she'd inherited it from our grandmother – so he must have thought she was more devout than she actually was. He must have figured that if he messed with a good Catholic girl, then threated to tell her family, he'd have the same kind of leverage on her he had on the others.

"Suzie fought him off so he couldn't…finish. But she was traumatized and quit her job. My folks wanted to bring charges but somebody alibied him. I don't blame them, he probably had something on them, they didn't have a choice."

"He did. He also told them that Susanna was accusing him falsely." Steve said. "He was a real slimeball."

Kowalsi shrugged: "Yeah, but after that we though it was all done, so Suzie went off to college. But then she started getting emails from him. He kept changing the address so she couldn't block him. Or she'd get pictures of herself on campus through the mail. He wrote that he always knew where she was and if she ever said anything, she'd regret it. So she came home and locked herself in her room.

"That scumbag broke my sister, and I couldn't let him get away with it! So I got a gun, and talked my cousins into helping me boost a car. We'd planned it all out, you see. Most mornings, Tennant would leave the hotel just after the crowds had gone. There'd have been hardly anyone around at his usual time, but he came out early today.

"We spotted him, we'd already stolen the car and we couldn't risk trying to get another or hanging onto the one we'd got, so we just went for it. Then the gun went wrong. The creep who sold it to us said we could set for single shot, and I'd it set that way. But when I pulled the trigger it went full automatic. I panicked, couldn't control it, then the magazine was empty and we just got out of there!

"Listen, I'll plead guilty to anything you want, sign anything you give me, if you just go easy on my cousins. I talked them into it, and the worst they did was help me steal the car and drive it!"

"'Ave yer still got the gun, pet?" Vera asked.

"Yeah." Kowalski admitted. "We stashed it at the back of the shop until we could figure out a safe way to get rid of it. Your people probably found it already."

"OK." Steve said. "I'm gonna send one of my people in here with a pad and a pen. You need to write down everything you just told us, all of it, then sign it. I'll see what I can do for your cousins, OK?"

Kowalski nodded, still staring at his hands.

"So, what 'appens now?" Steve and Vera were sitting in his office. Steve had somehow managed to get his hands on a decent cup of tea, something for which Vera was very grateful!

"That poor guy goes to jail." Steve admitted. "That's gonna happen whatever. How long for depends on a lot of things.

"We got a heap of evidence against Tennant, especially if Anja wants to make a statement. The DA won't be looking to prosecute her – she was under duress and no jury would convict her. We know from the INS and FBI that Tennant was part of a network of guys like him, all running the same scam on immigrants, so we know how he was able to stalk Susanna Kowalski.

"We can get a psychiatric evaluation of Susanna, and one of Stephen as well, that'll help. If the gun is faulty like he said, then that might count.

"But he still opened fire into a crowd with an automatic weapon, and bystanders were killed and injured.

"Whatever happens, it's gonna be Murder One for killing Tennant, and the cousins are gonna be charged with conspiracy. We might get the charges on the other deaths reduced…"

"Unlawful killing or manslaughter." Vera said. "That's what we'd call it back 'ome."

"Yeah, that kind of thing." Steve said. "If he's real lucky, he'll get a reduced sentence because of his mental state, and early parole. But even with all that, he's looking at ten years, easy."

"What a bloody mess!" Vera growled. "Well at least I'm still at the start of me 'oliday!"

"It can only get better from here!" Steve allowed.

The resolution of a case meant Kamekonas', of course, and Vera had a promise to keep.

"You need a nice fillet of white fish," she was telling Kamekona, "cod or 'addock or plaice if yer can get it, or a nice bit of skate. The batter is just flour and water and a bit of salt, but some people put a bit of colour in to make it more golden-like. Yer can make the batter with beer instead of water if yer want to be posh. You just dip the fish in the batter – it needs to be thick enough to coat it, mind – and toss it in the deep-fry. They say you should use beef drippin' but most people use oil these days.

"Yer need proper thick chips, not them French fry things, and yer need to use King Edward or Maris Piper spuds. You 'ave to double-fry 'em; once in 'ot fat or oil, and once in smoking 'ot. You 'ave to serve it 'ot, if it goes too cool, yer throw it out, 'cos it's 'orrible cold, so don't make a lot at a time unless you've got a queue.

"Yer goin' to need malt vinegar, the proper brown stuff, and salt to serve it with. Heinz tomato ketchup an' HP sauce as well! An' it tastes better wrapped in paper!"

The celebration was a little subdued. The case had been a messy one with no good ending possible, and everyone was wondering exactly what kind of justice was being served here. The system had let Susanna Kowalski down and driven her brother into an act that forced the system to punish him. The same system had kept Anja Rayner and hundreds more like her in fear and subjection to small, greedy men. The team registered every reaction from outrage to weary cynicism, then put it behind them and set out to enjoy the evening.

As the party was breaking up, Steve caught up with Vera.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, "it looks like Stephen Kowalski is going to plead guilty to all the charges, once they decide what they're going to charge him with. So you won't need to come back to give testimony at a trial."

"That's a relief!" Vera noted. "My boss wouldn't be appy with me 'avin' to go off an' give evidence on the other side of the world!"

"I guess not." Steve allowed. "Look, Vera, this wasn't our usual kind of case, and if it hadn't been for your instincts and experience, we might've taken forever to crack it. So I wanna say thanks for agreeing to help. Also, if we get anything else like this in future, would it be OK if I called you up for a little advice?"

"Oh, aye, if you want , pet." Vera told him. "I'm always 'appy to chat!"

"That's good." Steve said. "But remember, Vera, you're _o'hana_ now. Family to us. If you ever need Five-0, we're here for you!"

"I'll remember that." Vera promised. "Might come in useful if I ever 'ave to go down South! They're a funny lot down there!"


End file.
